Honor At Stake and New York City

Reflections of the Way Life Used to be.

When I lived in New York City, I lived in a corner of the city that in no way resembles a city.

It wasn’t the wild and winding roads of suburbia, held under the tyranny of homeowners' associations and whatever whim they have this week. Nor was it gentle rural living. We were under the general tyranny of the New York City government. I lived in a land where I didn’t see signs for Biden, or Governor Ho Ghul, but for Trump and Zeldin.

I lived in the far eastern part of Queens. Basically, I was down the road from Thomas Nolan. And Queens, for the record, is not Fran Drescher, the same way that the Bronx is not Tony Danza. It sets my teeth on edge when someone is held up as an example as a “New Yorker.”

My New York was where everyone in a three block radius can identify each other on sight — maybe not by name, but at least enough to say hello — the cops are cautious and vigilant, and generally only give attitude when it's given to them. (Ed Conlon's book, Blue Blood, read it, learn it, love it).

Everyone was quite content to let everyone else just go about their business and be left alone.

Yes, at one point, I was certain that the majority of New York was libertarian in nature than anything else. Too many people were apathetic about voting.

New York is NOT Manhattan.

In fact, of all five boroughs, large chunks of Manhattan are not New York, but a whole bunch of elitist snobby little bastards who are far more interested in making sure everyone votes the right way than anything else.

And then there's Greenpoint, Brooklyn.  It's a nice little area that has all the accommodations of a big city (and the traffic patterns), but really does feel like a small town.  And this is where Marco Catalano lives.

See, you had to know it would lead back to the books eventually.

Marco is sociable enough.  He's got his issues. To start with, he's smart. We're talking full-on Sherlock smart. Maybe Mycroft smart. He is living in a world of goldfish. Brooklyn allows him to socialize when he wants to, hunt when he needs to, and be perfectly alone when he wants to get rid of people.

Marco's minions, two street gangs, are in a section off of Manhattan Avenue in Brooklyn, nearer the center of the borough. The area is not as nice looking, and I’d consider ripe for demolition, but any place else would be seriously overpriced.

Julia Zabolotnikova / Julia Kova Russian singer. She’ll do for Amanda

As for Amanda Colt, she’s isolated by numerous factors. To start with, she’s far too pretty.  She’s also far too smart. This combination results in her being constantly attracting men who sniff around her while being comparatively too stupid to hold a candle near her. She's not in a world of goldfish, but it does seem like all of the good ones are taken. Thankfully, the Upper East Side of Manhattan is high priced enough to filter out most of the population, and allows her to move wherever she likes.

So, where do two people like this meet?  Well, in college, of course.

My Hudson University is a mythical place that has a campus in Manhattan. No, there are no campuses in Manhattan. Even NYU isn’t a campus, but merely a series of buildings. To go from one building to another is to empty out to the city streets. 

However, I went to St. John's University, in Queens, which used to be a golf course, so yes, they had a campus. I practically grew up there. My father was a part-time professor and a full-time dean.

But it's on this mythological spread that our protagonists meet. They don't quite fall in love. It's their last chance to reach out and touch someone.  They don't really have any anyone else. Just each other.

Welcome to New York. We're all connected. Usually by the mass transit system.